Give Me a Minute Now
by JannP
Summary: He knew exactly what she was saying.  You didn't get to be 28 years old without knowing exactly what that meant.


**A/N: **Yeah... I don't know. Hope you enjoy. Inspired by the song **10 Days Late **by **Third Eye Blind**_._

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own Glee or the song or the characters or anything else.

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><p><strong>Give Me a Minute Now<strong>

He rested his ankle on his knee and shook his leg. He would've looked at his watch again but it wouldn't have done any good 'cause it's not like he actually wore one, even if the radio station asked him to repeatedly. What he did on his own time, y'know? He showed up on time. He usually even showered first—not that it mattered in that case either; no one _saw_ him except the suit. His boss –whatever. Just whatever. He didn't have to be to work for like six more hours. The late afternoon show did have _some_ benefits, but one of them was not the fact he had no night life to speak of.

He saw her walking toward him, her hair swinging behind her in the breeze and it kinda sucked—she was smokin' and his stupid job was part of the reason he hadn't really pursued much with her. Her night off at the bar, his staying wide awake all night on _his_ night off (graves were a bitch like that)…that was really as far as it had gone before a couple weeks ago when he switched to the other shift, moving up in the world. He'd thought about calling her, but she hadn't exactly left her number and now he kinda wondered where she'd gotten his.

Then she was in front of him with a shy smile that he wanted to kiss off her face. He thought about saving her phone number right in front of her; truth was, he shoulda done it sooner. It'd been years since they saw each other when they bumped into each other and those years? We'll, they'd been fucking good to Rachel Berry. Not that they'd been exactly _hard_ on him, but…she looked good and she was good company.

He stood up then bent down to kiss her cheek. Her small smile stayed there but it stayed small and she gestured toward the black, wrought iron fence that lined this part of the Hudson.

He'd never really considered the irony in_ that_ 'til this exact moment.

Puck sighed and looked at her once they were leaning on the fence and looking out at the cranes building…some fucking thing or another. Who cared? Things were always under construction here and it lasted forever and turned traffic into a bitch and …well, the city wasn't his favorite place, honestly. But he was making it. He had a lot of options here.

But lookin' at her, the only option he had was to make her talk.

_We need to talk. It can't wait._

Her text had been simple, to the point—and now she was waiting. He turned to lean on one elbow before he looked over at her, standing to face her even though she was still looking out over the water with her shoulders hunched. It made her look fucking tiny, especially considering all the motion going on around them.

"If we need to talk and it can't wait, I think maybe talkin' would be a fantastic start," he said, keeping his voice low.

She sighed. "Sorry. I'm really nervous." She didn't turn and didn't relax. In fact, he barely even _heard_ her because her voice was so quiet.

"And you're really kinda freaking me the fuck out," he said. He reached out and grabbed her arm. "For like five minutes there, I was your dark secret or whatever…you can say anything to me."

She grasped the railing and swung her body out, dropping her hands down between her arms and looking at the sidewalk for a second. His eyebrows came together—he was pretty sure they were touching. Could you even do that?

She stood up suddenly and faced him. "I'm in trouble, Noah."

One of his eyebrows raised.

"I'm ten days late."

The other eyebrow came up and his mouth dropped open, but he couldn't really say anything. He just _stared_.

Fuck.

No…that was kinda what led to this. He knew exactly what she was saying. You didn't get to be 28 years old without knowing _exactly_ what that meant. It wasn't like back in high school when everything was confusing and there was denial on your side and…

_Fuckity fucking fuck_.

"'Cause of me?" He asked because…well… it wasn't totally unfounded. She wasn't his normal kind of hookup but just because he'd known her once a long time ago didn't mean he _still_ knew her.

She gave a short, not-really-laughing laugh. "Yes."

He shrugged and turned to lean back on the railing. He needed something under both his elbows to hold him up when his throat went dry and his heart picked up in his chest. "Well, shit."

Some guys only had to deal with this shit once in a lifetime. Some guys…well, some guys liked doing the relationship thing and having babies and…some guys got this kinda news and liked it. Some guys would laugh, would be happy about it or would…

…he was not _that_ guy.

Then again, this time _was_ a lot different. He was older. She told him directly and didn't try to pass a baby off as his best friend's. He wasn't sixteen and fucking terrified he'd never amount to anything more than the fuck-up that knocked up the head cheerleader. He was _more_ than that; he'd been on his own for years and he'd come dangerously close to actually being happy with himself. His sister was moving to the city to live with him in August and he was kinda fucking excited about it, actually. She was pretty funny and might make a decent roommate now that she was more of an adult than a pain-in-the-ass.

Then again, with like four words, it felt like his priorities and his plans might've taken a hit right to the junk. He just looked at the water, wishing maybe the way it moved could make him feel even a little more…present. Or real. He couldn't feel the breeze blowing around him or air in his lungs or anything, really, other than her eyes on him.

He could walk away. Most guys never even had to deal with this shit once, and he didn't know how the fuck it happened again. She'd always been a little crazy (he didn't hate it) and…well…he could just say he was all stocked up on crazy between his Ma and his sister, especially where Hanna was coming to _live_ here. She was bringing her crazy—like, all of it—right into his lap.

Then there was all the other stuff having, like, a _kid_—Jesus Christ,_ a _fucking poo-covered, crying, needy _kid_—brought up for him. He tapped his foot on the sidewalk. No fucking way he wanted to touch daddy issues—his or hers—with a ten foot pole. Or a twenty foot pole. _Jesus._

Okay, he took it all back. He could feel one thing. Her eyes were all over him. She was looking at him and he knew—he could _feel—_she wanted an answer or a reaction or … what, like _reassurance_? The situation was completely fucked and there wasn't really a way he could give her any of that. They barely knew each other anymore. They'd gone totally separate ways after graduation. _All _of them. He'd asked her about Finn and she didn't even know where the guy was, except to say they both knew he didn't live in Lima anymore. She'd asked him about Quinn and sure, he knew she'd gone to Loyola, but that was about it. It had been years since college, so he had no idea where the first baby mama had gone. He hadn't even heard from the actual mama that, y'know, was raising his first accidental kid.

_Fuck_. He wasn't even thirty and he was two-for-two on this shit, huh?

They didn't know where anyone else was, and they'd been each been totally floored to run into each other. She was blowing steam after a mid-run play performance that hadn't gone smoothly. She wasn't the star, not yet, but she was at least the understudy for the star and… whatever, it had obviously affected her when there were problems. She'd been one sheet to the wind when they'd started talking; he wasn't much better off because he'd accidentally said fuck on his show the night before and—seriously? What FCC suit was even listening to that shit on a _Sunday_ night at three a.m.?

Regardless, things had seemed a little better and they had talked and laughed and just maintained their buzzes until he invited her to go home with him and she laughed out a comment wondering if he still had a nipple ring (he didn't.) He offered to show her and that was kind of that, especially when he asked if she had one. (She didn't. She did have _seven_ tattoos though. _Seven_. All of them hidden. He'd only actually found five.)

"I'm thinking about seeking permission to have an abortion," she finally said after the silence had stretched for years.

"Wh-_what_?" He said, choking out the shocked words before he had even totally caught up to what she'd admitted.

"Well…I've done some research and…and there are three rabbis in my neighborhood who have actually granted permission to have an abortion based on unmarried status. Not all of them will, but it _is_ the most common reason for most of them to allow it."

He just continued to gape at her. So she continued to talk, even if she was looking down at the hem of her t-shirt.

She shrugged a little. "I mean…I'm not sure I would ever tell my dads if that were the case."

"My mom would fucking kill us _both_."

She nodded. "Yes, and that's precisely half the reason I wouldn't tell them. The other half is that, though they would vigorously defend my right to choose it, I don't think they would actually tolerate my choice about it all that well. They would just tell me I'd been terribly irresponsible and I needed to see the situation through."

"A kid is _not_ a situation," he retorted immediately. He'd never known he actually had feelings on the subject 'til his feelings came flying out of his mouth. "When you think like that, you end up like my fucking dad and…just…"

"I've been told all my life that I could never love anything as much as I love _myself_ or my _career_." She shrugged. "A lot of people have said that to me, in a lot of different situations. A child deserves better than that."

"D'you think that's true?" He turned his head, still leaning on the railing and still pretty sure that's why he was still standing. He swallowed hard. "I mean… I know basics about you and all but it's not like I can know if that's how it is."

She nodded. "It's been too long. We don't really know each other." She looked out over the water just like he did. "We don't…it…it would be ridiculous to assume we could raise a child together, especially under these circumstances."

He didn't agree but he didn't protest either. She was basically right and he was just…he was frozen. She watched him for a while longer before she stepped a little closer. He caught a faint smell of her perfume when the wind shifted her hair his direction and…he couldn't help it. The morning after she'd left it was like he bathed in that smell and…and it hadn't sucked. They had a totally hot night together, but it had been a little more than that. There were little things, little sweetnesses and courtesies, that they had shared and wouldn't have been able to share without some kind of history. Little things about who they were and who they had always been that came through even though there was more time as strangers than as friends between them.

Things only he had recognized. Things only she had seen. Things he felt like a fucking girl for even thinking about so he'd put them away. Until he smelled her and they all came out and landed on him again, mixing with everything else and making it hard for him to think. She was still talking and he knew he needed to come up with something to say—quick. Because she _would_ just walk away. She was one of the few people who had ever walked away from him instead of it being the other way around.

"…so I can only imagine what that was like and I didn't want to repeat her mistakes in any way by not at least telling you. If you'd like to come with me to the appointment with my Rabbi tomorrow, you're certainly more than welcome but I have no expectations and I'm more than capable of doing it on my own and…"

She reached out and bunched her t-shirt up in her fist before she placed a kiss on his cheek.

"…and I will. I just wanted you to know, I suppose. So thank you for meeting me. I won't…I won't bother you again, Noah."

She was only half a step away from him before he caught her hand in his. "No…just…no. Wait. Give me a minute here."

He'd tried to stick by a girl he'd gotten pregnant during high school and she had basically turned him down; then he'd gone and fallen in love with her anyway, and the whole situation was just terrible because she made a bunch of one-sided decisions and…and he had learned at least enough to know that he and Rachel…and their…fuck, their _baby_… deserved better.

"This just…it's not like this shit gets any easier to hear," he said eventually. Now he could feel her eyes on him, but he could also feel her hand in his and he let his thumb trace over her knuckles.

He almost laughed at her raised eyebrow glance. "Exactly how many times have you heard it?"

He _did_ laugh a little at her words even though nothing about any of it was funny. "Well…_now._ And there was one girl in college that freaked me the fuck out but…but it was nothin'. I've been more than a little careful since Quinn."

She blew out a breath and nodded. "Yes. I know. And I know…I… you know this wasn't on purpose, right?"

"Coulda guessed," he said. He gave her hand a little squeeze. "'sides. I was there and I know you said you're on the pill and I know I used a condom, so…"

Rachel nodded and sniffled a little. "I don't know how this happened," she said. "I'm not…I just keep going over the odds and I don't understand."

"Your biggest problem was always how things had to make perfect sense. Shit happens…people are assholes, things change… s'the way the world works. You can't make sense of it all the time or you'll go crazy. You take a pee test already?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It's not a drug screening."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I have to take that shit at work from time to time."

(Every time the stupid FCC threatens to fine the station.)

She nodded and sighed. "Yes. I've taken numerous home tests and had two blood tests with my doctor. The results came back this morning."

He held her hand a little tighter; even though he kinda doubted she was the kind of girl who would fly off the handle about something without doing her research first, it changed things to hear the words, to _know_ it wasn't just a possibility but it was a reality.

"You coulda called sooner."

"I didn't want to trouble you needlessly," she said. "I…as I said, Noah—you're welcome but not _obligated_. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay." He pulled her against him, his heart still hammering away in his chest. He didn't know _how_ but he knew there was something he could promise her right now. "We'll be okay."

* * *

><p>"We're <em>fine!" <em> She insisted.

"Still… sorry I was late," he sighed. "That interview took _forever_."

"Yes, well…since their rock opera came out, that's all Fall Out Boy ever thinks is worth anyone's attention," she said shortly, still rushing around the apartment. She tossed a wink over her shoulder at him as she moved, though.

"Where's Ben?" He asked. He looked around the space; not only did he _not_ see the eight month old boy who, though tiny, was thisclose to crawling and ruining his mother's life, but he didn't see any trace of him either.

"He's already with Hanna. She showed up early again." Rachel stopped and put her hands on her hips. "I swear to God, Noah, if she teaches him to crawl faster, I'm going to—"

He stepped into her space. "You're going to do nothing except take pictures of him. I know you too well for you to make threats."

Her lips curled into a smile. "Well…I'm glad she's so enthusiastic about watching him so we can go out."

He nodded as she slid her hands over his chest and up onto his shoulders. "By_ go out_, do you mean _stay in_?"

They'd been playing around with the idea for literally months. Between a stringent nursing schedule, Rachel going back to work, Noah taking over management responsibilities for the morning show and thus putting them on totally opposite schedules, and even moving together into a slightly bigger apartment in the building Noah had previously lived in—they had noticed last week they'd never had a proper date.

_Not once_.

No wonder his Ma (and her dads, honestly) were concerned they were doing everything backwards. Not that he gave a shit. It was working out, so obviously 'backwards' wasn't a problem.

He could feel her eyes on him as he thought through all of that (Benjamin had been sleeping so well lately he thought maybe the overload on sleep make him think too much), and he shrugged it off easily.

"I could be persuaded," she said easily. "Well…as long as you take me out for dinner. I'm not sure there's anything to cook."

He nodded. "Well… give a minute." She laughed and gave a half-hearted attempt to push him off once his lips met her neck.

"Pretty sure that's what got us into this whole…" she looked around carefully. It had been nearly an hour since Hanna picked up their baby and she had whipped the apartment right into shape during that time. It could hardly be called a _mess_.

Really, none of it could. Life was good. Better than they'd thought possible during that afternoon at Battery Park. Better than they'd thought possible as she struggled through a difficult pregnancy and an emotional time after the baby was born.

He laughed a little and kissed her forehead. "Just finish getting dressed. I won't even stand behind you and take your clothes off."

"Color me impressed that you're finally learning about restraint," she said. She let her hands linger at his waist before she turned to walk away, throwing the end of her sentence over her shoulder as she went.

"Nah," he said. "I mean, I can do plenty to impress you, but I'm fuckin' starving. Apparently while F-O-B is big on talkin', they aren't big on eating."

She laughed and shook her head but disappeared from his sight. He dropped onto the couch and palmed his phone out of his pants pocket at the same time. He legit _would_ rip her clothes off if he followed her into their room, so he was going to wait to change his clothes—and grab the prop he needed—until after she was done (s'not like it took him more than about 5 minutes to get ready anyway.) He had time. Kinda funny, considering how many times in the last year and a half he'd asked her to give him a minute while he made a decision—everything from how he was going to handle being a dad to changing jobs to getting his nerves under control when they did it for the first time after Ben was born.

So he pulled out his phone and sent her a text message.

_Hey B we need to talk. It can't wait._

He smirked to himself when he heard her phone chirp from their bedroom. It was probably wrong that they joked about the way she'd initiated the conversation back then, but they did anyway; it was one of a hundred things that were probably wrong with them, but he only knew she had become the best part of his life. He'd sat there the day after she told him, talking to a Rabbi about an abortion, and he had honestly doubted every fucking word out of the guy's mouth when the guy said they could make it work and they seemed compatible and capable of being good parents. The Rabbi was the same guy who had just reminded them that Jewish couples were considered obligated to reproduce _twice_.

Well, he'd taken his time. He'd had the minute he asked for. He thought the Rabbi was right. He thought he and Rachel were right—even if they'd figured it out on accident. And now he didn't want to wait anymore. He had a question to ask her. The kind of question that came with jewelry attached. There was also a park bench at Battery Park with their names on it (and the intern from the radio station standing guard til they got there.)

He had no intention of fucking this thing up.


End file.
